


Sweet As Syrup

by endlessnepenthe



Series: "Why, Where Are We Going?" "The Future." [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Sleepy Bucky Barnes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, super indulgent Steve, they! have! a! dog!, very very soft, yes pamper Bucky like he's royalty that's what he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 14:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20427782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnepenthe/pseuds/endlessnepenthe
Summary: It’s easy for him to slip back into sleep.The last thing Bucky remembers is a low voice murmuringSleep some more. I’ll wake you up for breakfast,soft lips brushing his forehead, and the sound of water.





	Sweet As Syrup

“Where are you— Wait— Rex, no, come here! Let him sleep—”

Nails click briefly on hardwood. Then a new weight dips the mattress, followed by soft panting and a damp nose bumping gently against Bucky’s cheek.

Mostly asleep, Bucky blindly raises his flesh hand. Enthusiastic and eager, a furry head butts against his fingers and he indulgently curls them to scratch lightly around pointed ears. A wet tongue laps at his face and Bucky winces goodnaturedly, blinking sleep heavy eyes open to sink both hands into thick fluffy fur.

“Who’s a good boy,” Bucky mumbles as he playfully tousles the fur around the dog’s snout, his voice as rough and deep as gravel crunching under car tires.

“Not Rex.” Someone sits on the edge of the bed, running a lazy hand down the German Shepherd’s side. “You don’t listen to me, do you, boy,” he cooed happily without a hint of disapproval.

Rex flops down onto his side, licking at Bucky’s metal hand with his tail swishing energetically against the bedsheets.

Abandoning his hand to its fate of being a popsicle for Rex, Bucky closes his eyes. His body is still wonderfully pliant and warm and perfectly relaxed; it’s easy for him to slip back into sleep.

The last thing Bucky remembers is a low voice murmuring _ Sleep some more. I’ll wake you up for breakfast, _ soft lips brushing his forehead, and the sound of water.

\---

Bucky stirs at the sensation of slender unhurried fingers running through his hair, languid and soothing. Inhaling sharply, he forces his eyes open to slits, peering up at the person perched on the edge of the mattress with his back to Bucky. Fingers stilling, the hand withdraws.

Rolling onto his back, Bucky nuzzles his cheek against Steve’s hand, half lidded eyes sleepy and affectionate. Steve smiles — small and devastatingly adoring — and leans down, sealing their lips together as his hand caresses Bucky’s cheek.

The kiss is sweet and lingering, pressure light but present. Neither of them push with a sense of urgency or for more contact, simply enjoying the feeling of the moment, the feeling of having the other there.

When they finally part, Steve hastily sits upright. The idea of setting down a hand to support himself had slipped his mind and he’d held himself over Bucky with sheer stubbornness — and his quite impressive core strength — but even super soldiers lose their concentration and strength sometimes. “Mornin’. Breakfast is—”

Bucky growls a dismissive sound, moving to prop himself up on one elbow and reach for Steve with his other hand. He spreads his fingers wide at Steve’s nape, urging Steve’s head down so they can kiss again.

Steve’s torso is twisted and slouched down to Bucky’s level, and Bucky’s whole weight is balanced rather unsteadily on the elbow he’s nearly lifting off the bed in his mission to reach Steve’s mouth. It works, but it’s less than comfortable for them both.

So Steve plants a hand on either side of Bucky’s head, steadily bearing down on him while they exchange kisses until Bucky’s yielding and lying back down. In one fluid movement, Steve swings one leg over both of Bucky’s thick thighs; it brings Steve’s center of gravity higher and Bucky arches up to compensate, cradling Steve’s face between his hands.

With Bucky between his knees, Steve drops from his hands down to his elbows. Bucky follows easily, sinking back against the pillows with Steve looming over him.

“Mmm,” Bucky sighs against Steve’s lips, satisfied and content with their new position.

A few more long warm chaste kisses, and then Bucky’s tongue is swiping a tentative inquiry at the seam of Steve’s lips. Steve lets his mouth fall open with a laugh that’s slightly breathless.

Bucky licks into Steve’s mouth at the invitation, shy and quick; he retreats almost immediately. Steve mirrors the action — kitten licking a fleeting tease — and nibbles at Bucky’s lower lip, humming encouragement. Reassured, Bucky sets about exploring, no doubt chasing after the coffee he could taste, the remains of the cup Steve had had earlier. Moving slowly and deliberately so Bucky doesn’t startle, Steve trails a hand down under the hem of Bucky’s Henley, pushing it up to settle a possessive hand on the dip of Bucky’s back, just above his hips. Breathing a soft chuckle into Steve’s mouth, Bucky responds by shifting the hand that is lower on Steve’s neck to slip it under the collar of his t shirt, fingers splayed just as possessive over the upper ridges of Steve’s spine.

Something next to them on the bed twitches, a slick tongue lapping at Steve’s neck. He pulls back from kissing Bucky — Bucky lifts his head off the pillow to chase after Steve’s lips, managing to snatch one more fleeting kiss before Steve’s out of reach. Sitting back on his knees and straddling Bucky’s thighs, Steve strokes a hand down Rex’s back.

“Look at you,” Steve laughs, “can’t even let us kiss in peace.”

Rex rests his head on his paws, blinking wide innocent puppy dog eyes until Bucky exhales a fondly exasperated sound and reaches over to ruffle the fur between Rex’s ears.

Steve leans over to give Bucky a light peck. “Breakfast?”

Bucky doesn’t reply, closing his eyes and arching his back in a leisurely stretch, strong leg muscles flexing under Steve’s weight. Rex wiggles closer to rest his head on Bucky’s chest, settling down comfortably and dozing; Bucky scratches absently at Rex’s ears.

It’s clear: Bucky doesn’t intend to move.

“Okay,” Steve agrees, gracefully climbing off the bed — and Bucky — before reaching down to tap the tip of Bucky’s nose with a finger. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Wrinkling his nose halfheartedly, Bucky opens one eye to watch Steve pad out of the room.

A minute and a half later — not that Bucky was counting, of course — the sound of quiet footsteps return. _ You’re late, _ Bucky doesn’t say. He’s content to lie still with his eyes closed, one hand cushioned in soft thick fur.

The _ clink _ of a plate being set down on the solid wood of the bedside cabinet rings out in the silence. Then the mattress sinks as Steve sits down, the scent of dark coffee wafting thick and rich in the air.

“Bucky, wake up,” Steve murmurs, gentle voice lilting upward in a questioning manner. He’s suggesting, not demanding, and even though it’s such a small and simple thing, Bucky feels his heart swell several sizes in love and appreciation. “Buck—”

Bucky blinks blearily up at Steve.

“There you are.” Steve practically glows in delight.

“...Mornin’,” Bucky mumbles around a yawn.

Steve smiles, wide and bright. “Coffee?”

“Coffee,” Bucky echoes, carefully sliding Rex off his chest to drag himself upright with a grunt. He holds the offered mug in both his hands, inhaling the steam with relish.

Nearly vibrating, Steve patiently waits until Bucky has taken his first handful of sips before talking. “Made those blueberry pancakes,” he chirps enthusiastically, “drowning in maple syrup, just how you like it.”

“What would I do without you,” Bucky deadpans, obediently opening his mouth for the piece of pancake Steve had speared on the fork tines.

“You’d be perfectly fine,” Steve replies as he licks a stray droplet of sticky golden syrup off his palm, absolutely serious.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You’re such a sap,” he grumbles with no real heat. “C’mere.”

Cradling Steve’s face with one hand, Bucky kisses him deeply, sharing the taste of maple syrup blueberry pancakes between them.


End file.
